Fourteen Days
by Fellsing
Summary: A young Abra waits for his trainer to return. One-shot. Rated T just to be on the safe side as it contains mild violence.


**Author's Note: Hey, everyone. First story on my new account. It's just a quick one-shot to fill some time while I work on some much larger fics. Hope you enjoy and please review if there's anything you want to tell me about this story, whether it be good, bad or if there is anything that should be improved. I know for a fact that I might have rushed a little at the end, but I'm overall proud of this.**

**Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Pokemon. Pokemon belongs to Gamefreak and Nintendo. All I own is this story and the original characters in it.**

**Fourteen Days**

It has been fourteen days since his trainer told him to wait on this cold seat of stone. He possessed no voice with which to ask him where he was going nor was he brave enough to form the question in his mind and project it to him as other Psychics did without a second thought. He could only watch as the boy walked off into the distance, further and further until the trees obscured all sight of him.

The first day was alright. The various bushes and trees that surrounded him were full of ripened, juicy berries that clung to the twigs as a young child would cling to its mother. It was a little messy when he first tried to pick one. It must have been a little over-ripe for it burst in his claws like a balloon, covering his golden skin with dark blue juice. It didn't bother him though as he just licked it off with his small tongue and was careful when picking the next one. While the Oran Berries were more filling, he preferred the sweet flavor of the Pecha Berries. When night fell, it was so cold as to be unbearable, and he curled up the rocks and went to sleep, dreaming of the time, for which he believed back then to only be a day away, that his trainer would return and they would leave this place together.

The second day he woke up, a little sorrowful to find his dream has not come true, but he put on a brave front and searched for food again. He found a sizable amount, all of different types, shapes, sizes colours, and consumed them readily. However, one his way back to his waiting spot, he accidentally steps into a hole housing a family of Rattata and was promptly attacked, leaving him several bites and scratches on his arms and legs, but he wasn't too injured. He had a restful night sleep, but he didn't dream that time.

The third day was harder, for the Pokémon native to this area had started to notice his presence and didn't take kindly to this stranger feeding off their land, especially as winter was fast approaching. There were less berries on the trees that day and more Pokémon doing their best to gather as much food as possible. When he tried to approach a tree for food, a Pidgeotto flew past, quick a lightning, and stole a handful of berries right from his grasp. With _his_ food in its beak, it soared up and perched on the highest branch before smugly looking down at him and eating each berry as slow as possible, as if to taunt him. He only just managed to find some unripe Rawst berries and had those for his supper before lying down to sleep for the night. They made him feel a little ill, but at least he wasn't hungry anymore.

The fourth day he starts to get anxious. His trainer had still not returned and the Pokémon in the area had started acting openly hostile towards him. A Spearow charged straight at him while he was staring off into the distance and knocked him off his seat. He fell straight onto his face as the Spearow flew up into the sky to join the rest of its flock. He swore he heard them laughing at him as they flew into the distance. When he went looking for food, there was none to be found. The others had taken it all and hoarded it away. He went to sleep on an empty stomach that night and had to curl up tightly to keep himself warm. He remembers that one time when he was ill and his trainer let him sleep beneath the covers with him. "Just this once," his trainer had said. He wished his trainer was here now to curl up with him and keep him warm.

The fifth day brought hope: a young boy came wandering over the hills, a Charmander by his side. The young Abra rose his head but soon dropped it down again, ears pinned drooping. It wasn't _his _trainer. The boy spotted him and smiled, taking a pokeball from his belt, but the Abra simply teleported out of view and waited him to go. He doesn't want another trainer. He just wants _his _trainer.

He can't remember the sixth or seventh day, only that they had been awful. He had stopped being able to find food and was getting thinner as the day went past. He'd stopped leaving his place altogether, simply staring off into the distance and waiting, waiting.

The eighth day was the worst. The Pokémon of the area had obviously had enough of him by that point. A whole flock of Spearow seemed to come out of nowhere, diving right out of the sky and slashing at him with their beaks. They were screeching the same words, again and again…

"Get out!"

"Get out!"

"Get out!"

He teleported a few feet away and began run. They gave chase, following him down the hills, across seemingly endless fields. They were faster too and managed to surround him, eventually blocking off all escape and sending him down to his knees. He could feel blood dripping down from his forehead.

_It hurts, oh Arceus, it hurts_, was all he could think, closing his eyes tight and trying to block out the pain.

He must have fallen unconscious for when he opened his eyes again, he was no longer outside but indoors. It didn't take him long to recognise the white walls, the beeping of a machine, the medicinal smell, the kind-faced woman in the nurse's uniform who smiled down at him… he was in the Pokemon Centre.

He spent four days there, apparently injured pretty bad by the Spearow attack. On his third day there, the eleventh day since his trainer left him, he made a friend.

"Wow. They banged you up good, didn't they, kid?"

He had been lying down on his bed when he heard that voice. He craned his head up to see a beat up Meowth perched at the foot of his bed. He flinched as he saw the deep scratches on her face, the way her left eye was squinted thanks to the large bruise that splotched over it. Her left ear and the end of her tail had been ripped off completely. This cat Pokémon had clearly seen better days.

"Got to admit," she continued. "You looked pretty bad when they brought you in."

He allows himself to sit up but his shoulders were tensed. He wasn't sure if he should trust this Meowth. _**Not as bad as you**_, he answered coolly in his telepathic voice.

The Meowth raised an eyebrow. "What, this?" she said, motioning to her face with a paw. It was at that point the Abra noticed she had no claws. They seemed to have been removed. "Got this from me last trainer," she said, a large grin passing over her face. "Didn't take kindly to me losing a battle against this kid's Raticate. Set 'er Wartortle on me." The Meowth shuddered. "Nasty piece o' work."

_**Your last trainer?**_ he asked. If he had an eyebrow, he would have raised one.

The Meowth nodded. "Yup," she said. "Had three of them, I 'ave. Each nastier than the last. It was the second one who tore off me ear." She then leaned forward. "But enough 'bout me. What about you, kid? Who beat you up, eh?"

_**A flock of Spearows**_, he answered.

The Meowth chuckled. "Nasty, ain't they?" she said. "What you do to piss 'em off?"

He shrugged. _**They didn't like me being in their territory, I guess,**_ he answered.

The Meowth chuckled. A nurse came over with a plate of food and placed it in front of him. She then glanced at the Meowth and seemed to recognise her. "Oh, hello, Kit," she said. "You come for you supper?"

"Right you are, nursery," the Meowth said with a purr as the nurse bent down to stroke the top of her head. The nurse, of course, didn't understand her, but smiled anyhow before walking off, most likely to get a second bowl of food.

_**Kit?**_ the young Abra looked back at his companion. _**Is that your name?**_

The Meowth nodded. "That's right," she said. "And what do you call yourself, kiddo?"

That made him pause and it took him a while for him to remember what his trainer used to call him. _**Erm, it's Azrael,**_ he answered at last. It had been a while since he had heard that name.

"Oooh, fancy," Kit commented.

They had talked for a while longer, both of them happily stuffing their faces as they did. It was obvious that neither of them had eaten for a while. Eventually, Kit left and Azrael settled himself down for the most comfortable sleep he had had in days.

He was let out the next day. At first, he thought about lingering and waiting to see if Kit was still around, but decided that he should head back to the waiting spot in case his trainer had returned. He was a little cautious as he made his way up the hill to the large stone that had been his home for the last week, afraid that the Spearow were waiting for him. However, to his surprise, he found no one there, not even the slightest hints of wild Pokemon. He was relieved, until night came and realised why they had left.

Winter had come.

Those last two days he spent alone, hungry and cold, settling on that same rock. The misery that had left him during his time at the Pokémon Centre came back worse than ever. What if his trainer had come back when he was gone and found him gone? Would he go looking for him? Azrael just didn't know anymore.

It's been fourteen days since his trainer left him, and when the sun rises on the fifteenth, he doesn't even bother to open his eyes. He only wishes for death.

That's when he hears her voice.

"Kid… hey, kid, is that you!?"

His eyes open slightly and he sees her standing front of him. He at first thinks he might still be asleep and that he's dreaming, but eventually, he realises that he's not.

Kit is standing right in front of him.

The rest of what happens is a bit of a blur, but he finds himself back at the Pokémon Centre. Somehow, she convinced him to come back with her, terrified when she found him lying down all thin and frostbitten. Apparently, since he had left, she had come back and had went looking for him.

"What 'appened?" she asks once they get back to the building. She's clearly been here often enough, because she manages to get the nurse to bring them two bowls of food. "What were you doing up there?"

He eventually tells her, about his trainer, about how long he's been waiting. He tells her everything.

"Arceus," she curses. There's anger in her eyes. "Why didn't you tell me before? I coulda 'elped!"

_**I… I thought he would come back**_, Azrael says.

Kit just shakes her head. "Arceus," she says again. The two of them sit in silence, just eating and taking in the warmth of the Pokémon Centre.

When Azrael finally speaks again, his voice in tiny. _**He's not coming back, is he?**_ he asks.

Kit doesn't answer. She doesn't have to.

_**What am I going to do now?**_ Azrael asks. He's been brave these last fourteen days but now he can feel the tears forming in his eyes.

Kit is still silence, but she places her paw on his shoulder. Azrael is crying now. He cries for what feels like hours and the tears just keep coming. Fourteen days worth of tears.

When he stops crying at last, Kit finally speaks. "You know… it ain't so bad living on streets 'ere in this town," she says. "The Centre almost always offers food an' you can sometimes get some of the folks 'ere to give you food if you pester 'em long enough." She shrugs. "It's not the most comfortable of lives, I suppose, but it's better than being out there, especially in the Winter." She pauses and then adds, "And you can 'ang round with me. I'll keep you safe, show you the ropes."

He isn't sure what to say. He doesn't like the idea of being out on the streets, but he doesn't want to go back out into the wild again. If he goes back to the rock and waits any longer, he'll be waiting until he dies.

He looks back at Kit for a long moment. Then he manages a smile. He nods.

It's been fifteen days since his trainer last left him. He's tired of waiting.


End file.
